might reasonably have required. That he should wholly escape the consequences of his violence was surely an error in the other direction. Yet such was his good fortune. He was set at liberty unconditionally on March 9th, 1728. What became of Merchant or Gregory I am unable to learn.

The Story of Lord Camelford's Hatal Duel.

LORD CAMELFORD-the great-grandson of Governor Pitt, the Anglo-Indian" nabob," who made most of his large fortune by the sale of "the Pitt diamond" to the Regent Duke of Orleans-was born in 1775, and from his boyhood was unhappily distinguished by a violent and ungovernable temper. At an early age he entered the Royal Navy, and as a midshipman served on board Captain Vancouver's ship, the Discovery, in her exploring voyage; but his frequent disobedience of orders subjected him to severe disciplinary treatment. On his return to England he endeavoured to revenge himself by challenging his captain; and, meeting him in Bond Street, would have struck him with his cane but for his brother's prompt interference. In those days metropolitan life afforded abundant opportunities for young noblemen to gratify their love of violent doings. At Drury Lane Theatre, on April 2nd, 1799, he played a conspicuous part in a riot which broke out there, and fell upon and wounded a gentleman who had given him no offence-a luxurious proceeding for which he was fined £500 in the Court of King's Bench. Shortly afterwards he and his choice companions savagely attacked five watchmen in Cavendish Square, but this was an occasion of "the biter bit; for after a fierce contest of upwards of an hour, the watchmen turned the tables upon their assailants, and,

assistance arriving, arrested them, and carried them off in triumph to the watch-house. His next exploit was,

on the night of the general illumination for peace with France, in 1801, to keep the windows of his apartments in New Bond Street darkened. The angry mob battered them into fragments with volleys of stones, whereupon the mad young nobleman-for he was certainly not sane -dashed into the midst of the crowd with no other weapon than a cudgel, and strove frantically against overpowering numbers, until, bleeding fearfully and half unconscious, he was driven back into his house.

By this time the name of Camelford had become one to charm with-like that of Marlbrook in France, it was an evil omen. One evening he was reading the newspapers in the Prince of Wales's Coffee-house, Conduit Street, when "a buck," or fine gentleman of the period, entered, seated himself opposite his lordship, and ordered the waiter to put a pint of Madeira and a couple of wax candles in the next box. At the same time he drew to himself Lord Camelford's candles, and began to read. Lord Camelford looked on, annoyed. In a minute or two the waiter announced that the fine gentleman's orders had been obeyed, whereupon the latter withdrew, yawning, to his box. Mimicking his affected air, Lord Camelford lounged after him, and, taking up a pair of snuffers, coolly snuffed out both candles, and returned to his seat. "Waiter!" shouted the dandy, "who is this fellow that dares thus to insult a gentleman? Who is he-what is he―d'ye know his confounded name?" "Lord Camelford, sir," replied the waiter. "Lord Camelford! Good heavens! What have I to pay?" And, hastily discharging his account, he stole from the coffeehouse, leaving his Madeira unconsumed.

The two clever brothers, James and Horace Smith, have put it on record that on one occasion when they were at the Royal Circus, the exuberant loyalty of the audience demanded "God save the King!" with the usual formalities of "Stand up" and "Hats off!" A naval lieutenant, much the worse for liquor, perceiving that a gentleman in a neighbouring box showed no particular haste to comply with the popular demand, bent forward and struck his hat off with his stick, exclaiming, "Remove your hat, sir!" Unfortunately for the lieutenant, the gentleman thus insulted proved to be Lord Camelford, who dragged the valorous officer into the lobby and punished him severely. "The devil is not so black as he is painted," said James Smith to his brother; "let us call upon Lord Camelford and offer ourselves as witnesses that he was first assaulted." Accordingly, next morning, they presented themselves at his lordship's lodgings, 148, New Bond Street. The ornaments of his sitting-room were truly appropriate. Over the fireplace a couple of strong brass hooks supported an immense bludgeon. Above this was one of smaller size, and another and another, each of reduced dimensions, until a pyramidal trophy of weapons was crowned by a horsewhip. Lord Camelford

received his visitors with great affability, and thanking them for their proffered evidence exclaimed, "If ever I see you in a row, my friends, 'pon my soul I'll stand by you to the last!"

About a fortnight later occurred the event which has invested Lord Camelford's name with so tragic an interest. He had for some time been on intimate terms with a Mrs. Simmons, who had formerly been the mistress of his friend, Captain Best. A tattling tongue whispered to

66

him that Captain Best had slandered him to this woman. Her good or ill opinion was of no value; but Camelford was so irritated by the report that, falling in with his quondam friend at the Prince of Wales's Coffee-house (March 6th, 1804), he abruptly addressed him-in a voice loud enough to be heard by all present-"I find, sir, that you have been speaking of me in the most unwarrantable terms." Best quietly replied that he was unaware of having done anything to deserve such a charge. Lord Camelford angrily retorted that he was not ignorant of what he had said to Mrs. Simmons, and, in a burst of fury, declared he was a scoundrel, a liar, and a ruffian!" In those days there could be but one answer to such a provocation. A challenge was given and accepted, and the meeting fixed for the following morning. Remembering their former friendship, Best, who, from the first, seems to have behaved with a good deal of moderation, sent to Lord Camelford a message, earnestly assuring him that he had grossly been misinformed, and that, as he had acted under an erroneous impression, he should be satisfied if he would withdraw his injurious expressions. Unhappily, influenced by his ungovernable temper, Lord Camelford refused. The people of the coffee-house, apprehending that the affair would end in blood, lodged information at the Marlborough Street Police Office; but the authorities delayed action until nearly ten o'clock on the following morning, when constables were stationed-too late!-at Lord Camelford's door.

To prevent police interference, Camelford had left his lodgings and passed the night at a tavern. Early in the morning, in accordance with the arrangements of their seconds, the two opponents met at a coffee-house in Oxford